The Last Breath of Hope
by bobdabuilder0804
Summary: COMPLETE Post Season 3. Doesn't take Season 4 into account. COMPLETEThanks everybody who reviewed this :D
1. Default Chapter

The Last Breath of Hope.

The ride to CTU was painfully slow, but Jack Bauer didn't have the will power to manoeuvre through traffic. He made his way through the building with tall strides, aware that every pair of eyes would be on him now his addiction was out in the open. People glanced at him over there computer monitors as he passed, trying to watch him inconspicuously but failing, he knew what they were doing. He was sweating again but wouldn't give his viewers the satisfaction of seeing him do something, anything, which would provoke suspicion; even something as innocent as rubbing his face. 

He scanned the room for Brad and noticed that Michelle wasn't on the floor, her terminal was going unused. He assumed she was with Tony or at the clinic, but it still seemed odd to him, seeing her terminal empty like that; he didn't think he had ever seen it so bare before. 

Hammond left the briefing room and headed right over to Jack who stood prone in the centre of the main building, lost in thought as his eyes wavered over Michelle's desk. He was completely oblivious to the activity around him, and for a split second Brad wondered if he was high. He didn't entertain the thought for long, Jack wouldn't get high on the job, he would never put public safety at risk, not even for his drug addiction. Brad reached out to him and watched as Jack snapped out of his daze instantly, he wasn't high. 

"They brought me over to interrogate the couriers Brad, but Johnson and Melrose are already in with them," he stated, not bothering with the formalities of a greeting. He was annoyed as he was wasting his time doing nothing when he could be with his daughter at the hospital. 

"I know there was a mix up, I'm sorry. Listen, I need one minute to check something with Chloé, then we can talk. Why don't you go wait in your office and I'll get over as soon as I can?" His tone was friendly and made Jack suspicious, but he didn't have the strength to question it. 

"Sure," he muttered, wondering if the tale about interrogating the couriers had been a play to make him come back all along. It didn't matter, he was here now, might as well get the inevitable over with. He felt Brad pat his shoulder in appreciation for his co-operation before he rushed away. He made his way over to the Field Operations sector but stopped short of the stairs which would take him to his office. He glanced over his shoulder at Michelle's workstation again and sighed, feeling his shoulders slump in defeat; it represented the start of the change which was to come. 

He made it up to his office undisturbed, now the threat was over the majority of the field teams had been sent home to rest, after pulling double shifts it was unnecessary to keep them working any longer. He closed the glass door behind him and studied the office, knowing it had been searched when his addiction was revealed. It still looked the same, everything was as he left it, just a few key things would have been taken; like his drug kit, for example. 

His eyes scanned the two piece couch and he wanted nothing more then to collapse on it, but instead he made his way over to the water fountain in the corner by his locker. He poured himself a plastic cup of cold water and gulped it down thirstily; before pouring himself a second, third and fourth. The cold liquid felt heavenly as it made its way down his scratchy dry throat. He grudgingly left the fountain and took a seat on the corner couch as Brad made his way into the room. He made himself comfortable opposite him but Jack didn't meet his eyes. 

Hammond sensed his discomfort with the conversation which was going to come and realised he would have to start the ball rolling. 

"What happens now Jack? The threat is over and there is no national crisis demanding our immediate attention." 

"I'm going to get clean Brad," he snapped, cutting to the chase - he knew exactly where Brad was taking this. 

"Have you thought about how you're going to do this?" His tone was gentle and Jack wondered if Brad was being nice because he wanted something from him. There was no other reason, Jack was certain of it. Brad didn't care about him or his health, he was probably trying to get everything squared away so he could go back to Division. 

"I'll do it alone. I've already been tampering off." He was staring at his hands now, picking at his nails. It didn't matter, the reddening face told Brad all he needed to know. He stretched over the coffee table separating them and placed a hand on Jacks arm, forcing him to look up at him. 

"You can't do it that way, its not safe. But we can get you into a programme Jack, in any of the top centres across the country. We can get you in tomorrow, tonight even... But you can not do this on your own, you just can't." His voice was filled with exasperation - he didn't think Jack was even listening to him, and he was certain he wouldn't accept the help his employers wanted to provide. Brad tried hard to conceal his surprise when Jack finally spoke, his voice was timid as he wasn't sure if he was making the right decision. But it was also etched with something else, Brad noticed, was it acceptance? 

"I know... I know." He looked so vulnerable, Brad thought he might cry. But Jack surprised him again by pulling himself together as fast as he had started to fall apart. 

"I appreciate this Brad, but I can't talk about it right now. I need to know what's going on with Tony." Jack noticed the shift in Brad immediately. His eyes turned cold and he started to look around the office for a distraction, as Jack had done minutes ago. "Brad?" 

"He is being transferred to the hospital for observation. Once the medical is complete he will be transported to federal holding." 

Jacks eyes started to close and he felt no need to stop them. "You can not prosecute him for this Brad, we got Saunders because of him; we couldn't have stopped the virus if he hadn't done what he did!" 

Brad said nothing but the look of disgust on his face told Jack he didn't agree with his take on Tony's actions. 

"Damn it Brad, this isn't right!" 

"Calm down Jack, okay - there are lost of subjective factors involved which the lawyers can take advantage of, all right?" He realised in that moment that he couldn't tell Jack of his own fate; he would have to wait until he was in a more stable state of mind. The news would be a blow to him, but he too had a chance of fighting the charges the government were going to throw at him, he had David Palmer on his side. Brad felt that Tony had brought everything on himself, but Jack didn't deserve to be prosecuted too - his actions had been on the right side of the line the entire time. He felt guilt seep into his mind as Jack had no idea what would be thrown at him once he was clean, he didn't deserve it. 

Jack began to fidget again, he was still sweating too, Brad noticed. His hair was damp and making his neck itch, he rubbed at it roughly while cursing under his breath, knowing things would only get worse. When he saw concern in Brads eyes he realised he needed to start talking again; he was a junkie and didn't deserve anyone's pity. 

"When should I do my debrief?" I assume it will differ to the normal procedure given the sting operation carried out by Gael, Tony and myself?" 

Brad had to give him credit, he was going a fine job of directing the attention from himself. He was trying to hide the cracks but Brad knew it would do him no good in the long run. "We'll worry about that later, I'm more concerned with securing you a place in a centre. I can have Chloé find you a suitable place but I need to know, today or tomorrow? How long have you been running in empty, is it worth getting you in tonight so you don't have to start from scratch again?"

Jack didn't respond, he knew what he wanted to say but he couldn't make himself form the words out loud. Brad sensed this, "Talk to me Jack." 

Jack looked up slowly and for the second time during this conversation Brad was struck with how vulnerable Jack looked, liked he was scared and lost but too afraid to ask for help. 

"I stayed clean all day, but if I'm going to do this, its got to be tomorrow, so I can take one more hit." 

Brad's head snapped up, pity and disbelief splattered across his face. 'How had he managed to fall so low?' 

"Jack, that's not exactly ethical, I'm trying to help you, not-" 

"I know that Brad, but if this is going to work I need to do this my way. Nobody had to know." 

"I don't know Jack, if you are so determined to quit then you wouldn't need one last fix." 

"I do need one more fix, so it can be the start of the end. Just one more, so I can have a good rest and be ready to fight this thing head on." Brad noticed how he had perked up and was more animated now. He did need this, he realised, feeling slightly defeated. 

"Well where are-" 

"Right here," he stated bluntly. 

"What? No way Jack, I can't allow this!" 

"I've don't it here plenty of times before. I have the goods hidden here too, a backup I know forensics wont have found. I can sleep right here and when I wake up I'll leave for a centre right away. If I go home... I may not come back Brad - that's what scares me. So please... just leave me here." 

"I'm not leaving you anywhere Jack, where's the stuff hidden?" 

Jack leant back into the couch with relief, he didn't have to argue anymore and he didn't have to go home. He wanted this nightmare to be over. He knew that this one last fix was an unneeded detour but unless he did it this way he would always wonder about that one last fix. This way it really would be over, for good. 

He looked up as Brad sat next to him, placing the small black pouch down on the glass table before them. It had been well hidden and illustrated to Brad just how deep into this thing he was. He dimmed the windows with the remote as Jack's trembling hand emptied the contents out on his lap. Brad looked away, he couldn't watch this. He told Jack he would be back in five and patted his shoulder heavily, hoping to give him some reassurance. Jack didn't acknowledge him, he was captivated by the vial before him. Brad closed the door heavily knowing nobody would enter it, he was upset to see how easily Jack was controlled by such filth. He felt ill from the scene and was glad he had left; he couldn't watch Jack inject himself with poison. 

His laptop was tucked under his arm as he returned to the office, he would work while keeping an eye on Jack. He had informed Chloé of what he needed her to do, and chuckled to himself again as he recalled her response. 

"It's not exactly part of my job description sir, but as its for Jack I'll get right on it. I'll keep my mouth shut too, Jack doesn't need his dirty habit made any more public than it already is, I'm sure." 

He pushed through the door and closed it behind him, before looking over at Jack. He had slid to the floor and kicked the coffee table over. Brad felt his stomach drop at the sight before him, his sleeve was still rolled up and he was crying, sobbing into his arms which he had buried his head in, his body shook from the effort. 

Brad didn't know what to do, he had never seen Jack display weakness or emotion before. He quickly moved over and shifted the coffee table out of the way. He knelt down before Jack and grabbed his forearms, calling Jacks name over and over until the tears stopped as he realised he wasn't alone. Brad hauled him up on the couch and Jack lay across it, shielding his face from view. Brad moved away, understanding his need to be alone. 

He filled a cup with cool water from the fountain and made his way over to Jack. He looked up at him with unfocused eyes, and gladly took the cup from him. He tipped it up, pouring the liquid over his hair and face, relishing in the comfort it gave him. Brad smiled at the action while picking up the empty syringe and the rest of the kit, before tossing them into the bin. When he finished he checked over Jack again and saw he was sleeping. He pulled his suit jacket of and folded it up neatly. He gently raised Jack's head up from the couch and placed the material beneath it as a pillow. 

That done he gathered his laptop from the floor, he had dropped it in panic when he had seen Jack on the floor. He sat down opposite Jack on the couch, glancing over the screen every ten minutes or so. In his drug induced sleep he had rolled over onto his side and curled up slightly so his face was in view. Brad felt himself smile again as he realised it was the first time he had seen Jack calm; the sweat and water not taking away the innocent quality to his sleeping form. He shook his head knowing the image wouldn't last long, by this time tomorrow he would be back in hell. He sighed as he clumsily pushed himself up from the couch - he needed to get a cup of coffee - it was going to be a long night. 


	2. Chap 2

Brad left the room quietly, ignoring the voice in his head telling him that Jack wouldn't wake up no matter how loud he was, he wasn't exactly sleeping naturally. He noticed his trembling hands as he rushed down the stairs so he hid them away in his trouser pockets, balling them into tight fists hoping to pull himself together. Was it watching Jack prepare his drugs, or the part he had played in it which had scared him so much? He could have just said no, but then where would Jack be now? He was a determined man and who knew what trouble he may have found trying to shoot up. No, he reasoned, he had done the right thing. 

He pushed the troublesome thoughts from his mind as he knew he needed to keep everything together and hold down the fort until he got Jack into rehab. Then he could work the issue of Tony, and hopefully he would get the chance to clean up the mess actual terrorists had made at some point in the near future. He was lucky they had a strong team running here, Adam was running the clean up job, Chloé helping him with this while filtering out the field ops files, things were running smoothly, despite the days events. 

He called division and gave updates to his superior before he checking up on their progress there, all activated quarantine areas were being dealt with quickly and effectively. If they were lucky they would beat this threat, things seemed to be finally heading in the right direction. 

Ready to write the initial report on Tony's actions Brad grabbed his coffee knowing it would play an instrumental part in getting him through the night. He climbed up the stairs slowly, the energy he had used to rush down them had gone, he had been bouncing around on nervous energy from his knowledge of Jacks current condition. He didn't feel so tense now, he accepted what had happened and the more he considered the situation, the more he understood it too. 

He was alarmed to see Jacks office door slightly ajar once he reached the top of the stairs, somebody was inside, or had taken a look in. He was initially angry with the lack of respect shown, lower ranking agents were not permitted to enter a superiors office without direct authorisation - whoever had done so tonight hadn't been given permission. 

He felt a twinge of fear at the thought of somebody knowing Jack was high, surely they would piece together the part he had played in it? He abandoned his coffee on a nearby station that was going unused and headed for the room, dread overtaking his fear, how much more could go wrong today? He realised he needed a break from this, they all did; but it wasn't likely to happen, not anytime soon anyway. 

He stood by the door and peered through the gap, a figure was stood over Jack; the light shining through the gap in the door illuminating a strip of her. Her arms were folded - almost in protest, yet Brad could see compassion on her face, well, what was visible of it. He had to smile to himself in relief; Chloé never knocked on Jack's door, she just barged right in. 

Brad cleared his throat as he entered the room, startling her as she watched the sleeping beast; scared for a moment that it had woken. 

"I came to deliver my findings for a suitable place for Jack," she started defensively, as though she had done something wrong. 

"Thanks," he whispered, taking the thin CTU folder from her, "any luck?" 

She let out a short laugh to emphasise her point. "Of course I did, St. Johns will take him in tomorrow, any time after 7 am. Its aimed at the military and all staff have high security clearances. Its highly recommended for any type of... problem." 

Brad just nodded so she continued. 

"I have to say, some of the institutions looked more like holiday villas than anything else. I considered getting Jack a place somewhere in Malibu with a sea view but didn't think he would appreciate the thought," she laughed. 

Brad laughed too, he felt better, the tension was gone and somehow Chloé had managed to put him at ease - he didn't know how but it was true. 

"So... he is in a pretty deep sleep... right?" She pried, wondering if her suspicions were right and if Brad would tell her if she was. 

"Well he's had a hell of a day. Thanks Chloé," he added, meaning it - she had helped out tremendously here, he didn't doubt she was the best at what she did. Brads response confirmed her suspicions, she knew she should be mad at Jack's actions, but found herself more concerned with the fact that he had to resort to drugs - something was obviously wrong. She closed the door behind her as she cleared the thoughts of Jack and his habit from her mind; there was still work to be done. She sat down at her computer glad to be back on familiar territory and tried to push the image of Jack sleeping from her mind. She succeeded but deep down she knew it was a picture she would never forget. 

The night passed slowly. Too slow for Brad; he tried to hurry morning along so Jack could be on his way to recovery. He barely moved in his sleep and could have been presumed dead for his stillness; Brad still found himself checking him over more than working. 

Early morning Kim called, looking for her father. Brad had cursed himself for answering, expecting the following conversation to be awkward, but Kim somehow made it easy. She was worried her father wasn't home or at the hospital, so Brad explained that he had fallen asleep at the office. He then asked her to go home, pack some clothes and other for him and drop them off at CTU. He explained to her that he had arranged, with Jack's consent, to place him in a rehabilitation centre as soon as possible. She started crying. 

He felt his stomach clench as he listened to the young girl try stop her sobs, anyone who knew her story couldn't ever feel anything other than compassion for her; and this was the icing on the cake. She thanked Brad for making him go, and asked if she could see him before he went. This did make him uneasy, he didn't know what Jack would want. He decided to be cautious and told her to wait until he woke - then it was up to Jack. Brad would call her to notify her of his decision either way; Kim seemed to understand and accept his response. If her father didn't want her to see him this way, she could do nothing but respect his wishes. 

After a brief update on her plans to return to CTU for a debrief, and an update on Chase's condition he finally hung up; the conversation had lasted over 20 minutes but seemed more like seconds. He felt bad as he placed the phone back in its place; guilty even, that Kim would be submitted to more punishment from her fathers actions. He silently reminded himself to suggest she be checked over, or maybe speak to one of the psychologists the government had on loan. She would have more than enough issues to deal with, today just adding to the list; she could be under mental duress. He noted his thoughts down on a notepad before getting up and leaving the office again. He would try get some more coffee, and maybe this time he would get to drink it too. He was exhausted but didn't pity himself, everybody in the building was in the same boat. 

At three in the morning security alerted him that Kimberly Bauer had left a package for him at the check-in desk. She hadn't come in to see him, respecting his wished of staying away from Jack until he was awake and apart of the decision making process concerning himself. 

She left a black duffel bag bulging with clothes and a smaller black backpack next to it. He ran it through the scanner before carrying the two bulky items up to the office, laying them carefully next to Jack's locker, wedged between the metal storage cabinet and the white bin containing the remains of his heroin kit. He smiled, pleased with himself; hoping Jack would pick up on the symbolism. Three cups of coffee had been drained but it didn't help him, he was tired beyond belief. He leaned back on the couch and rested his eyes, just for a moment he told himself, before falling into a sleep almost as deep as Jacks. 


	3. Chap 3

Jack woke slowly, rolling onto his side to face the back of his sofa. He kept his eyes closed hoping to catch sleep again, not completely conscious. But it didn't come, instead his mind began to focus and he started to remember the events of the day before. He had barely opened his eyes when he closed them again at the memory, it wasn't something he wanted to think about; but he knew he had no choice. He pushed the earlier highlights away and concentrated on the later events, mainly Brad Hammond, Tony's arrest, Chase's condition and how he had injected heroin into his own veins once again. He yawned as he thought about how good that last fix had been, the weight had fallen from his shoulders, his body had relaxed and his mind, more importantly his conscience, had completely shut down. He had been void of thought - and he would never experience that sensation or freedom again.

Of course it hadn't been physical freedom, in that sense he had been cursed. But mentally, he was free from the guilt and pain which haunted him. He just hoped that in getting rid of the drug, the pain somehow vanished too. It wasn't logical and probably wouldn't happen either; but he could hope, in the very least. For he would never get the dullness or the nothingness again; but he would get his life back, was that enough? It didn't matter if he didn't get the peace again; he had taken his last slice of freedom, and it was over. Time to move on, get past this and regain his self control. He'd had enough down time, now it was time to clear out his system and start up again. Otherwise he would fade away, and what would be the point of living then? Their wasn't one, just like their was no choice - it was over.

He rolled back over, careful not to fall over the edge of the sofa and pulled himself into a sitting position slowly. His stomach still ached but that was probably the aftermath of holding out so long the day before. The withdrawal from that last shot wouldn't kick in for a while yet, afternoon at the earliest. As he wrapped his arms around himself he finally looked around the room. He remembered falling to sleep in a drugged haze, but it was still strange waking up here. It reminded him of another low time in his life, when he had no choice but to sleep in his office, unwelcome in his own home. He compared the two situations and wondered which was worse, the earlier, easily. The pain he must have caused Terri if she had to throw him out, he hadn't been able to forgive himself for that. It gave him some hope, knowing that although he was down, he had survived worse. Forced away from his family, Terri's death… If he had survived those, he would beat this. He had to.

He glanced over at Brad who looked as rough as he imagined himself to look. He had a shadow over his face which Jack had never seen before, he and Nina had once joked that Brad hadn't started growing facial hair yet. He smiled, not at the memory of Nina and he, but at the way Brad had treated him. He didn't expect respect or compassion from anybody, but Brad Hammond of all people? He was grateful for his effort, and knew he had to thank him once this ordeal was over. Who knew what his plans would have been for today if he hadn't collared him into sorting his problem out. He had been in bad shape yesterday, physically and mentally, Chase's hand making everything seem even worse, his conscience even darker. He had felt sorry for himself when he had cried in the car, but now he realised how selfish that was. If Brad hadn't talked to him, or given him that last shot, who knew where his mind would be. Not thinking about a future, no glimmer of hope, that was for sure. 'Thank God Brad dragged me up to the surface,' he thought with genuine appreciation.

Brad grunted in his sleep and the sound motivated Jack to get up, if Brad woke to find Jack staring at him he would feel more than uncomfortable, freaked out definitely. He painfully stood on his two feet, wobbly; he had been curled up all night on the couch and his body had a hard time straightening itself back out. He stretched and yawned before pacing the office. A bag of his was on the floor, next to his locker. It looked full and he assumed Brad had sent somebody to pack the things he would need to save him the trouble of going home. He then noticed the backpack next to it, it was Kim's he was sure of it. He she been involved in this, he wondered? If she did, she would know he was clearing his head or she wouldn't have had to bring his things over. He silently prayed that she would forgive him for this. He knew the best way to earn forgiveness was to get clean; it seemed strange that so many motivating factors were suddenly involved in this. Before it had seemed like the whole world was against him, so he continued to shoot up and hide himself and his habit away. Now it was in the open he felt lighter, and somehow more willing to get rid of it. He knew the sense of urgency was because of Kim's involvement; he could do this for his little girl.

He wondered over to the bags wanting confirmation it was Kim's. Before he lifted it up he glanced in the bin it was placed next to and saw the drug kit, sat awkwardly over some screwed up pieces of paper. He stared at it for a moment, feeling nothing but hatred and betrayal. It had brought him happiness and peace, but at what cost? He would never give in again, he thought as he turned away from it, wondering if Brad had put his bags there on purpose.

He staked back over to the couch, wanting to take the tint from the windows even thought he couldn't - he had to grant Brad his privacy. He knew he shouldn't leave the office, CTU would be alive outside this room and he wouldn't be invited to help clean up the mess he had made. So he continued his pacing, until he noticed the closed CTU file on the floor by Brads feet; he had dropped it in his sleep.

Jack stalked over and cautiously picked up the document, knowing what it was. He leafed through the file, their was no overall report, but a list of offences and then possible defences to Tony's actions, along with Brads own recommendations of how to deal with Tony. He felt anger swill up inside of him, why was Brad giving him a chance but slamming the door in Tony's face? He felt some satisfaction knowing he would be a key witness in the trial, he would do everything he could to save Tony. Once again, more motivation to get clean quickly, it he was on the drug he wouldn't be given the opportunity to save Tony; and he was the only person who could make a difference.

"That has CLASSFIED written on it for a reason," Brad croaked, making Jack jump, he hadn't noticed Brad stirring before him.

"This isn't right Brad," he said, holding the folder out to punctuate his words, before dropping it on the table and moving away. He turned back around and saw Brad looking down at his feet, he looked guilty of something. Jack wondered if he really wanted Tony to go down or if he was just following his orders. He had no idea Brad's guilt was due to the charges that Jack didn't know about, waiting for him to be clean before they hit him with them. That way he couldn't postpone the process as Tony had. That action, Brad did feel strongly about - but it was out of his hands, all he could do was prepare Jack for it; and that meant rehab.

"I see somebody got my stuff," Jack said, easing the tension in the air and hoping he'd find out that Kim was involved in this, that she wasn't mad enough to not help.

"Yeah," Brad muttered pulling himself up from the couch and brushing the sleep from his eyes, "Kim rang, she wanted something to do so I asked her to pack your things."

Brad couldn't help but notice the way his eyes seemed to brighten at the mention of his daughter, and Jack couldn't help but smile. "She called, what did she say?" He was aware of the whine in his voice, he sounded overjoyed but desperate too. He didn't care, those were the emotions he felt, well, those and fear; fear she may still be mad or hurt because of him.

"She wanted to talk to you, and I told her you were sleeping. She asked if she could stop by tomorrow before you leave, I said I'd ask you and give her a call with your decision. I didn't know if you'd be up to it or not…" His voice trailed off as he yawned.

Jack was nodding to his words as he listened intently, thinking the situation over. Did he want his daughter to see him like this?

"I'm going to the locker room to take a shower, I'll have made my mind up before I get back."

He picked the backpack up not bothering to go through it here, before looking at Brad, he looked uncomfortable and Jack couldn't blame him he knew exactly what was running through his mind.

"When I get back you can update me on where I'm going and the procedures that are in place until I return."

The briefest of smiles filtered onto Brads face before he nodded in agreement. He didn't know how Jack was able to read him so well, it scared him at times but right now he was happy for it, he didn't want to voice his concerns out loud. But their was no need anyway, Jack already knew what his problem was. He watched as Jack left the room, bag slung over his shoulder; then activated the windows to clear, without the darkening tint. He grinned again as he watched Jack calmly walk through CTU, uncaring of the eyes following him; he had guts - he had to give him that.


	4. Chap 4

The cold water felt great, even better as it began to heat up. With it being early in the morning, and still busy from the previous day the showers were deserted, and he was granted the heat which nobody else had been able to take. He took his time under the water, enjoying the feeling of the droplets pattering against his skin. After taking all of the hot water, and then enjoying some more of the cold his skin began to show goose bumps and he decided he had better get out; Brad would be getting stir crazy. He dried off with a white towel, a rough black one wrapped around his waist as he rummaged through the backpack in the deserted locker room. He found a pair of black tracksuit bottoms and a dark green tee which would do. He pulled the clothes on hastily, not bothering to look himself over, he knew of the damage he had inflicted on himself. Although he still had his physical strength he looked terrible, underweight and pale; and if his stint had lasted any longer he knew his muscle would have deteriorated too. Eventually, he would have disappeared, thank God he was doing this, before he completely wasted away into oblivion.

He was thankful to see his trainers in the bottom compartment of the bag, which he pulled on, knowing his working shoes wouldn't look right with such casual wear. He had to smile at himself, he was worrying about which shoes to wear; that hadn't happened in a long time - maybe he was ready to start living an ordinary life again?

He glanced in the mirror taped to the wall and quickly looked away, he looked as bad as he felt. He had no energy left and it showed in his drooping eyes which were rimmed with dark circles. His face was pale and thin with his cheekbones more visible than ever; he looked terrible. He couldn't let Kim see him like this. He rationalised that she had seen him yesterday when he had looked and felt as bad, but he had been in work mode then, operating with a different part of his mind. Now it was the part of his mind that held his emotions and he couldn't bare the thought of her seeing him, despite how much he so desperately wanted to see her.

It wouldn't be fair, to do it to her so he would call her instead. Call her and actually talk, now that was something he hadn't done in a while with anyone. Maybe she would notice and be reassured by his willingness to get straight, and his honesty too, she wouldn't have to worry then. He grabbed the bag and left the locker room knowing he couldn't see Kim but wondering if he was making a mistake. Would she interpret his not seeing her as him pushing her away? No, he thought, not if I explain it to her. She will understand, she has to understand.

He passed through the active floor of CTU and was more than aware of the eyes watching him, people were stopping their work to let their gaze rest on him. Some did it discreetly, or at least thought they were; others openly glared at him, why shouldn't they? He was a nobody now and they all knew it, even Kim.

Brad moved away from the window when he saw Jacks head emerge as he climbed the steps; he felt bad for being so nervous, he didn't expect Jack to run, but if he did, his ass was on the line. He tried to appear casual as Jack pushed through the door but it didn't matter, Jack had seen him; the look of defeat on his face said it all.

"Hey, you look better," Brad quipped cheerfully, plastering a smile on his face which they both knew was false. Brad caught the glare Jack threw at him and knocked it off his face instantly. He couldn't be too straight with the man in his current frame of mind, but he couldn't patronise him either, he'd see thought it immediately and wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

Jack shrugged the bag from his shoulder on to the other and Brad used to moment to study him, he really did look better, but not too much. He still seemed fragile, his causal clothes making him look even leaner than he had in the office wear; he was too thin, that was for sure. It was strange to see Jack wearing the things he was, a simple tee and some old bottoms. It seemed strangely personal to him and he couldn't help but feel an odd sensation in his mind, as though he was intruding on Jack this way, and somehow as though he understood him a little better - it was a glimpse into his personal life he had never seen before.

Or maybe it wasn't, and his mind was going crazy due to the stress and the workload and the lack of rest… He shook his head and realised Jack was standing before him, arms crossed across his chest, a curious look on his face. Almost suspicious. Brad looked away, nervous that Jack had caught him observing him, another gesture he would not appreciate; Jack was a man who liked distance, and lots of it.

Jack was about to ask Brad about what it was that was on his mind but the opening door stopped him as they both turned to see who was interrupting them.

Chloe strode into the room with a folder in her hands, she looked tired and angry and Jack couldn't help but smirk at the thought of winding her up any further than she already was.

"What's this?" He asked as he took the folder from her, resisting the urge to laugh, knowing that nothing was actually funny. Maybe they drug hadn't completely work off.

"Information on the centre you will be going to. I personally picked it out for you, I think it will be suitable."

Jack just nodded, looking up from the closed file as he herd her sigh, she intended it to be herd.

"You okay?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

"No Jack, I'm not okay. I'm exhausted and were only 30 through the quarantines and the systems are falling behind now Adams left to be with his family. We didn't all get the chance to take a long nap!"

She hadn't meant to take her anger out on him, but she had trouble concealing her feelings. And when she opened her mouth her words seemed to run away from her, making her thoughts more exaggerated than they actually were.

Brad intervened as he saw Jack's eyebrows crease up in confusion, how did she know he had been asleep? Just how much did she know about yesterday, Jack thought?

"Thank you Chloe your continuous efforts are tremendously appreciated - you and your team will be rewarded once this is over."

Chloe smiled at the compliment, but wasn't finished yet. "I appreciate that Mr. Hammond sir, but I need to rest. I'm going home to get some sleep, I've updated Michelle on the changes and I'll be back late afternoon." As she spoke she made it clear her words were not negotiable.

"Michelle's here?" Jack whispered, confusion and apprehension filling up inside of him. He wanted to apologise to her for putting Tony in danger at the mall and for getting him involved in the sting operation. He needed to apologise to her too, for making her give herself up to Saunders. Could he do it, though, face her after he had taken her husband away from her? She deserved better than that, so how could he face her at all? She would hate him, and he knew she should yet it still hurt him.

"Yes. Apparently they sedated Tony for his own comfort so she came back here to help. She understands the pressure were under to straighten this thing out."

Jack nodded but Brad said nothing.

"Well if that's all then I'm going," she turned to face Brad. "Sir, I assume I'll see you later today. Good luck, I'm sure I'll be seeing you back here in no time."

She turned and left before she had the chance to see his lips curl up in a slight smile, or hear the quiet chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head, amazed by her once more; she never failed to surprise him. As soon as the door closed behind her the dread settled back upon him. Not dread of the poison spreading through his veins; but the thought of seeing her, Michelle; he hoped to God she knew how sorry he was; because he didn't have the guts to tell her. He was a coward; a coward and a drug addict ruining everything he comes into contact with, breaking things as though they're made of glass.


	5. Chap 5

"Everything alright?" Brad asked, seeing the thoughtful look overcome Jacks face as Chloe left. His mind was throwing accusations at him, he couldn't face Michelle, what did that say about him? Brads words filtered through his mind and he turned to look at him, his face blatantly telling Brad what a stupid question it was he was asking.

"Sure," he muttered, a touch of humour in his voice as he sat down on the edge of the couch and began to flip through Chloe's notes on the rehab centre. He could feel Brad watching him as he skim read through the information, and it angered him. Did he think he wasn't strong enough to do this?

"What's a matter Brad?" He snapped looking up at him, his glare stared right through him, it made Brad want to look away, but he didn't.

"Nothing. I'm just thinking you've got to get going soon, so…"

"I'm aware of the time issue Brad. If you could please leave me alone to call my daughter., and then I'll find you when I'm ready, it shouldn't take too long."

Brad was fiddling with his hands, he was probably under orders to watch him, make sure he doesn't go shoot up again or run, he thought. Brad nodded somewhat reluctantly and left the room, giving Jack some privacy.

Jack sank back into the seat once alone, resting his head back and closing his eyes. Why did he feel so… what did he feel? Depressed? Angry? Disappointed? It wasn't the thought of rehab looming ahead that bothered him, he was ready to deal with that. He just couldn't stop thinking about how badly he had messed up, himself, probably his job, Tony, and of course his daughter too. Just what would Terri be thinking, if she could see the way he had turned out? He shook his head, fighting the urge which was telling him that if she was here he wouldn't be in this predicament at all, and once again he was to blame. Such a failure, he thought.

As though trying to make himself stop thinking about her he reached for the phone but didn't pick it up, instead he gently rested his hand on the receiver, was he strong enough to do this, he wondered? He laughed at himself now, if only people knew his thoughts, how shocked they would be. He was aware of the many legends about Jack Bauer, the myths of his accomplishments, the thought of him afraid to call his own daughter would seem absurd to them, but he was. He was terrified. He had already admitted his addiction to her, when they had brought Nina in, but saying goodbye before he left to go to rehab was only confirming it, making it more real. And once again he was leaving her to pick up the pieces, gluing the life's he had wrecked back together.

She would have to deal with her own problems, take care of Chase, and he would be lying to himself if he said she wouldn't worry about Tony. He knew the two had a relationship of sorts, one of trust and security. She would have all of this on her shoulders, all because of him.

Jack let out a shaky breath, he had to do this, he couldn't leave without talking to her and apologising for ruining everything. It was bad enough he would hide away from Michelle, a trusted friend, but not his daughter as well. He held his breath as he dialled her cell, she answered it after one quick ring and he didn't know what to say.

Kim was sat on a bench outside the hospital Chase had been rushed to. She needed some fresh air, she had told him, but secretly she was hoping her father would call, praying really. When she saw the number appear on her screen she instantly recognised it as his office extension line. She answered the call and was met with silence.

She could hear heavy breathing down the line, she knew it was her father. She could only imagine the guilt he would be subjecting himself to, which is why she so desperately wanted to talk to him before he left. She had to let him know she wasn't mad at him and that she still loved him. She had to make sure he knew there would be somebody waiting for him when he woke up from the nightmare.

She resisted the urge to jump right in and talk, he would have a hard enough time accepting her words as truth, she had to give him time to let it sink in, she had to give him space. It was going to be difficult to get through to him, make him understand how she felt in such a short space of time. She wasn't exactly confident about the chances of success, but she could try in the very least. The silence went on, a glance at her watch told Kim they'd been on the line for 5 minutes. She patiently waited, until she herd a sniff down the line, was he crying? If he was, he was clearly hiding it from her. As usual, she thought sadly, trying to hide his pain away.

"I'm here dad, it's okay," she said calmly, not expecting to hear him speak so soon.

The silence lasted a little while longer, until she finally herd his voice. Quiet, slow; he sounded nothing like the man who commanded teams of men in the field, his voice betrayed the pain he was feeling, the guilt which was already eating away at him.

"I'm sorry."

As much as Kim wanted to jump in and stop him right there, she knew she had to hear him out, she didn't want to hear these words but she knew he had to say them or the phone call would be for nothing.

"For everything."

Another sniff, and a sympathetic smile crept over Kim's face. She'd never seen him cry, not even after he found Terri, he'd hid the pain as he told her. He saw it as a sign of weakness but she saw it as progress, maybe I can help him.

"I took everything away from you," he started, his voice strained, "You're mom, and everything else that was important to you. I know I don't deserve you, and you deserve a better father," his words sped up as his anger grew, anger she knew which was directed at himself.

"I messed up again, Kim, and this time I don't want you're forgiveness, I don't want anything. After I got Terri killed you gave me a second chance, and I know how hard that was for you, I'm not going to make you go through it again, not for me, I'm not worth it, and you shouldn't have to turn your life upside down. Not anymore Kim, you need to live your own life, without worrying about whatever mess it is I've gotten myself into."

Kim could hear him getting agitated, she knew she had to stop him, at least try and show him she cared.

"Dad?"

"Yeah," his voice cracked as he answered.

"You are my life, and that's something you need to accept. I will always worry about you, care about you and be there for you when you can. Just like you have done for me, that's what families do. I know you're upset, and you've been through a lot, more than anybody should have to go through. But that's what you do, its what other people can't do. You're talking as though I'm ashamed of you, when I'm incredibly proud of you…"

He didn't speak, and she could imagine him, batting away everything she said with a counterpoint in his mind. He was way too good at putting himself down, it had to stop.

"Listen to me, okay. I love you, and I'm going to help you as much as I can, as much as you will let me. I'm always going to be here for you, so please, stop pushing me away, let somebody help you for once."

He was silent again, and she prayed he was accepting her words not ignoring them.

"I'm going to rehab today," he blurted, as though he had been scared to tell her yet in need of getting it out.

"I know, I already spoke to Chloe. Unfortunately you're not allowed visitors but I have the number so I can at least call you every day."

Jack moved the receiver away from his ear slightly and sat back - she'd already done this? He was dumbfounded, why would she do this for him?

"Kim, I really don't know what to say. Thank you…"

"Dad you're welcome, but you don't have to say anything, okay."

Jack nodded down the line, he didn't trust himself to speak, he felt incredibly proud that his little girl, this smart, caring woman was his daughter.

"I have to go. I'll call you tonight. I know you can do this, and I'm so proud of you for doing it. Goodbye."

She hung up, but Jack held the phone a little longer, running the conversation through his mind. Part of him wanted to forget it, but how could he? Kim had sounded sincere, and would she lie to him like that? Would she give him hope if her words had been meaningless? No, he thought, she wouldn't do that. She actually cared about him, he realised. He hung the phone up and went in search of Brad. For the first time in months he left his office with a small smile on his face, and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.


	6. Chap 6

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I'm one man to make a difference  
I'm one soul all persistence  
In a dark word, just trying to make things right  
Choices we weren't given  
Any heroes, and our decision  
Is to stand up and fight for ourselves

The heat was intense, the wound down windows were doing nothing to combat the warmth which filled the car. As they sped through the roads Jack wondered why they didn't have the air-con on, but he didn't ask. The young agent who had been assigned to drive him to the centre remained silent throughout the entire trip, and he doubted things would change now. He was a flunky from Division, so he'd probably been ordered not to talk to him.

As they slowed to a stop at another set of traffic lights Jack noticed that the driver wasn't sweating as heavily as he was, his own shirt clinging to his skin uncomfortably. So that's why the air con isn't on, he thought half embarrassed, I'm the only person in the car going through withdrawal. The kid turned to look at him briefly as though he'd herd Jack's silent revelation, and Jack shielded his face from view by looking out of the window. He cursed himself for doing so, it wasn't like the boy didn't know he was an addict, he was going to a rehabilitation centre for a reason.

He allowed himself to look forward once the car was back in motion and he felt a rush of relief as the drivers attention was on the road, he seemed bored with the journey. Jack glanced at the watch on his wrist, they had at least another hour to go, and that was pushing it. He rubbed the back of his hand against his head in frustration, it was starting already, he wasn't supposed to get symptoms for another three hours. He realised he'd be a quivering wreck when he got there, what an impression he was going give.

Would he be treated with sympathy or disgust he wondered? More importantly, did her deserve their sympathy? No, of course not. As it was a military orientated clinic he assumed it would be the latter, doctors and staff looking at the scum they had to treat as though they were something they'd trodden in. He knew he didn't deserve anything from them, but his stomach tensed up even more in anticipation with this. It was hard enough living with himself knowing what sad excuse of a man he was, but hearing it from strangers too, that would be damaging. He knew it already, but that wouldn't stop it from hurting more than it already was.

People I don't know will think I'm worthless, so how are the people I do know going to react to this? Excluding Kim, who had every right to be ashamed of her father, others would certainly disown him. He wanted to laugh at the thought but he knew it would accelerate the slight cramp in his stomach; who the hell could disown him? Other than Kim he had nobody. Maybe that's why he had gone to such an extreme extent to save his cover, he had nothing to lose. Kim was lost; long gone, and although he had tried to salvage their relationship, she really would be better off without him.

He thought back to the clinic, he hoped he would just be left alone. Sure, given medical help if needed, but no prissy 'councillors,' or people who are there to 'help.' Just leave me alone, and I'll do fine. He new if that were the case he wouldn't be going here, he would have got off it months ago, but he let it drop. He was going around in circles.

Anyway, the place was more than likely going to be basic military procedure. So he probably wouldn't be left alone, but at least he wouldn't be treated like some war victim either. It would be just like boot camp, only your completing the cycle instead of starting it. They treat you like shit to harden you up, you waste your life getting dirty to keep the important people clean; and then when you're almost through the cycle, your that messed up you end up as some kind of substance abuser. Off to rehab where you will be treated, and feel like shit once more. Then its game over, cycle complete, thanks a lot for the effort.

He didn't intentionally scoff out loud, but he still did. The driver started to turn his head in curiosity, but stopped himself. He didn't care, the man sat besides him was a lose canon and one he didn't care to light himself. Jack stared at him anyway, part of him wondering if the kid was intimidated by him. Of course not, who the hell would be scared of a junky, a drug addict and a nobody…

He looked back out of the window and was pleased to notice they had turned onto the freeway. As the car increased in speed the air blew into his face and hair, relaxing him, he almost felt refreshed for a moment. He closed his eyes and leant his head back, enjoying the feeling of comfort which he knew wouldn't last. Think positive thoughts, he reminded himself, think of Kim. That was his game plan, when it got hard, think of the phone call. Think of her, the one reason why he had to do this, and the one reason he was so scared to fail. If he could make it through this, then who knows, maybe he will get the chance to make things right, be a good father. It was a little late, but as his own father had told him after turning up on his doorstep at 19 years old, better late than never.

He shook the thoughts of his father from his mind, where had they sprung from? He'd spent many nights drinking himself into oblivion, depressed, thinking about Kim and how much he missed her. The man had never entered his thoughts then, why now? Maybe he was losing it, great, CTU really would love that, not that they were short of reasons to fire him over.

As the car continued to pick up speed his mind lingered on the thought of the government, not CTU specifically, but just his work. CTU had plagued and cursed his life, yet it was all he lived for. Without work, he was nothing. Is that why he had agreed to go into rehab so easily? To try salvage what was left of his career? No, of course not, but still, the thought of going through this and not being able to work afterwards, it scared him. Just what was he going to do if he made it that far? He closed his eyes again, the air was getting cooler, relaxing him slightly which was better than nothing at all.

He knew he had to stop thinking about work, and CTU and his future. One step at a time, rehab, Kim and then who knew what would happen after that. Maybe CTU would want him, maybe they wouldn't. All he could do was get drug free so they had the option of rehiring him if necessary. He realised how selfish he was being again as he thought of CTU instead of his daughter, but then that's how it always had been….

And then there was Tony. After shaking Brads hand and thanking him for the help the man had filtered into his mind. Brad had seen the change in his eyes and told him to stop before he even asked, Alemida's case was now being treated as highest priority classified - which Jack knew meant they would do everything they could to hang him.

He tensed his arms as he remembered the thud he had felt in his stomach as Brad had spoken, it was like a de-ja-vu, only this time he was looking in through the glass, in the position Tony had been when it was Jack they were trying to destroy.

He balled his hands into a fist as he remembered how the pen ad shook in his hand as he had scribbled words down on a piece of discarded paper. He knew as he wrote he was taking the easy way out, hiding away and running from his fears. He wasn't strong enough to face her, maybe she would understand that. He hoped so, otherwise the words he had written to her would seem meaningless and cold, not painful and real; he meant every word in that letter. It was short and brief but concise and to the point. An apology to both of them, a promise that he would help as best he could, and then another apology before signing off. He had left it right there on the desk knowing it would find its way to her, before finding Brad waiting by the back entrance, he was going out of his way to avoid her. Coward.

He realised once again just how much it hurt to think about them, more pain he had unleashed on unsuspecting victims. If only he hadn't made Michelle give herself up, if only he hadn't caught Tony with Jane; if only he hadn't left Saunders behind. That one hurt, he had failed as a father and friend but even a soldier. Could he be of any use to his country? The answer was clear to him but not one he was willing to admit, not even to himself.

He twisted around in the seat to take a look behind them, before fiddling with the zip on his jogger pockets. He was becoming restless, and he knew it was all down to the drug. He was starting to itch, but he couldn't scratch it away, the itch was beneath his skin and running through his blood. Reminding him unnecessarily of his need, taunting him with his weakness.

He tried to focus his mind on Kim, on Terri on his mother… anything but work. He didn't want to hear the needle call him, he couldn't bear to hear Chase's anguished screams one more time. Or feel the sensation of Nina running her hands smoothly up his thighs, the release as he had pulled the trigger over and over, the sound of the bullet as it tore through the prison guards head…. It was a nightmare, images of the day before were projected at him at a terrific speed, reminding him of everything he had failed to do, every mistake he had made, and for that; every consequence somebody else had suffered.

__

We've been broken to pieces one by one

His eyes jerked open suddenly, they were still in the car, his mind had drifted. Had he fallen asleep? No, he could never sleep through the cramp which now consumed his mind. He watched with relief as the car pulled off the next exit, they were almost there. A feeling of anticipation and relief flooded him. He wanted to be here, he wanted to pain and the images and the lack of control to stop. He wanted to be able to say no and mean it. He smiled as the car pulled to a stop, despite the discomfort he was in. He felt relief knowing that he was almost there. Once he made it through the eye of this approaching storm he would be back on calm waters.


	7. Chapter 7

Empty spaces fill me up with holes  
Distant faces with no place left to go

Jack let out a groan as his fingers tightened around the duvet which partially covered him, his face contorted in pain and exhaustion. It should be over by now, he thought, when the hell is this going to end?

He had always assumed it would take 16 to 24 hours to get through the worst of the withdrawal, maybe another 10 hours to get completely past the after shock cramps and tremors of pain. But it had been almost two days and he was still encountering the cramps on a regular basis and he hadn't stopped sweating since he arrived.

His grip loosened and a glance at the small compact radio alarm clock on the white bedside table told him he probably had another 25 minutes before the next one hit, 30 if he was lucky. He turned the pillow over clumsily but realised both sides were damp, so he tossed it on the floor and bunched up more of the cover to rest his head on, laid on his side curled up under the thick quilt.

He was hot but the quilt gave him comfort, and it was soft against his body which was stiff and sore all over, thanks to the withdrawal. He tried to find comfort knowing that it was going away, and that 24 hours again he'd been laid in an empty bathtub in his own vomit. It couldn't get that bad again.

The centre was alright, it certainly had a military feel to it in organisation and structure but the place was nicer than he imagined. He had been taken to an office to be formally welcomed on arrival and he and a doctor had planned out how he was going to do this.

He wanted to do it alone for the most part and eventually agreed on a compromise of an hourly check up from the nurse. When she had found him in the tub hyperventilating and babbling to himself in the middle of the night she had changed the plans. She and a male nurse named Joey had cleaned him up before laying him on a gurney type mat on the bathroom floor. It was comfortable enough for him to sleep on and close enough for him to the bathrooms essentials.

Dr. Corry had then checked up on Jack on an hourly basis which Jane stayed with him for round the clock treatment. He didn't object, he wasn't aware of anything at that time other than the pain that coursed through him and the desire he wasn't strong enough to fight.

The following morning he had felt better, strong enough to move back to the bed. He didn't object to Dr. Corry's hourly visits but he did put up a fight with Jane. His arguments were for nothing as she told him it was strict protocol for constant treatment after such incidents. His face had screwed up in anger but he gave in, he was still in pain and craving a fix; and part of him thought he might need the help if the previous night had been anything to go by.

After the 24 hour period had passed he had managed to get rid of Jane, and Corry was checking up on him less and less. He had felt even better than before but was aware of how long the path to recovery was, it would be weeks before he beat the drug, but years before the itch beneath his skin left.

He rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair and let it drop back to his side resting on the mattress, it was all so surreal to be here. He never would have dreamed that he would end up in some clinic for a dirty habit. But then he'd never imagine himself to even experiment with drugs, despite it being necessary for his cover. And he had to admit, he'd never imagine it would feel so good when he took a hit.

He squatted the thought away instantly. He wasn't going back there. He wasn't going to make Corry and Jane's, and Hammond and even Chloe's efforts be for nothing. Hammond had put his as on the line for him, Kim had given him a second chance he knew he didn't deserve, it wasn't going to be for nothing.

He watched as the clock hands slowly ticked by, he was tired but not tired enough to sleep. He didn't like being jolted awake with the pain of a cramp, so fierce it took his breath. He worried about the current cramps and the pain they inflicted; he couldn't begin to imagine the pain he had bee subjected to the previous two nights. When he thought back it was vivid and real and he knew he had been in hell, but he couldn't reconstruct the pain other than knowing it was worse than nothing else; the cramps were now painful even if insignificant to the previous ones. He was scared of going through such pure agony again knowing there was nobody to blame but himself. The fear of the pain alone, he knew, would be enough to keep him clean.

Never mind the humiliation. He hadn't been able to remember much about the night the nurse's found him except the need to take a shower. He guessed he had decided a bath was the next best thing, and had passed about before turning the taps on or getting undressed. Jane had been kind when filling in his missing blanks, making a joke here and there to keep him at ease and limit the damage but it didn't matter. He felt like the sh!t he expected them to treat him as, but they were the ones trying to make him feel better. He didn't deserve there efforts or the efforts of the people, or person, waiting at home for him to get out. He deserved nothing. Or maybe he did, punishment for messing so many things up and hurting so many people.

He closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep but knew the thoughts could find him there too, he couldn't hide from them as much as he liked to try. He wanted to call Hammond and see what was happening with Tony. He wondered if Michelle had found his letter, he thought about the look of disgust that would be on her face as she read his words, his lies. They both probably hated him.

He wanted to call Kim, reassure he that her was doing okay, ask about her and Chase and his daughter. What was her name? Would Kim help him raise her? He suddenly felt the urge to call and ask her but knew it was prohibited to call out, and he didn't have a phone to call from either. Would she even want him to call if all he was going to do was pry into her personal life some more? Granted, he was still getting used to the fact that the two were together - hell, he was still getting used to the fact that Kim was 21 and an adult, and that the two were probably in an intimate relationship.

Chase had told him that the relationship was there business and not his, what did that mean? Before Chase came along her business was his, and his hers as they had nobody else. Now she had Chase, where would that leave him when he returned?

He felt his stomach clench again as the feeling of disappointment filled him, he didn't think he had ever felt so vulnerable before. Would he be welcome to see her when he returned, or would they run away from him, the overprotective, interfering nuisance of a father? He closed his eyes as he tried to tell himself it wasn't true, but he knew it was. He hadn't been supportive to Kim before, he'd been selfish earlier when she broke the news. How was he supposed to deal with this?

Kim had Chase. Chase had a daughter. Were they going to be a family together? Would he be welcome in it at all, or would Chase want Jack to stay away, would he make Kim push him away?

He smiled slightly as Jane knocked on the doorframe and popped her head into the room, greeting him cheerfully and making sure he was okay before moving on. He herd her do the same in the room next to his before her footsteps echoed down the hallway before fading completely. He was in a clinic surrounded by strangers. The only person he had didn't need him anymore, but he still needed her.

He felt a single tear roll down his cheek before dissolving onto the duvet, he didn't think he'd ever felt so alone before.


	8. Chapter 8

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Voices tell me I should carry on

But I am swimming in an ocean all alone

The loneliness was always hovering near him as he slowly recovered but he did his best to push it away. Jane had sensed his inner turmoil later that very day, aware of his tears and pain without letting him know. The had talked, friendly at first before conversation had gotten a little deep. They spoke of the drug, overcoming it, his progress and future. He had clammed up at the thought of his future, did he even have one, he had no idea? His career may be over, his daughter may leave him and he knew he would be followed with the shadow of the addiction for the rest of his life. At the time, his future hadn't looked very promising.

Jane kept him company occasionally without smothering him as she did other patients, although he tried to make her leave him alone she knew her presence helped him through the lasting pain of his withdrawal. He had a hard time, the cramps and fevers lasting longer than they expected. Even he hadn't realised just how much heroin he had been taking on a regular basis.

After the first week Dr. Corry declared him 'recovered' from the symptoms of withdrawal, but of course the battle still wasn't over, and never would be. Once the drug was flushed out of the system, he was told, an evaluation was needed. Physical, Jane had informed him, not mental. His relief at that was obvious to her but he still dreaded it, to return to any kind of field work he would need to be in peak physical condition.

The tests hadn't been too bad and he was pleased to learn that although underweight and weaker in strength than before, there was nothing seriously wrong with him. The first night into his second week he had slept peacefully, he would be out of here soon. He wasn't plagued with the dreams of being trapped in the clutches of heroin forever, it was as though he had accepted the life he would live after this.

Of course his positive demeanour left him the following day after a meeting with Dr. Hart, the psychologist. He had been uncomfortable enough around his health doctor so the meeting wasn't pleasant. Hart had explained, that basically, as part of the programme he was required to speak to a psychologist to determine his current metal stability and evaluate the odds of his returning to the drug.

He had been angry, of course, when Hart suggested this. He had no intention of going back to it, he had to stay away or he wouldn't get another chance at life, he had said. When Hart had probingly asked what he would lose if he did fall back into old habits, he sat in a stunned silence. He would lose nothing, for he had nothing. He would probably be unemployed when he got back home and he still feared his daughters life, that he may not be a part of it.

He had left the room and felt trapped. Hart was calling for him but his words fell on death ears. He couldn't run from his fears this time, he had nowhere to go, he felt trapped. He had gone back to his room and sat behind the closed door preventing anyone from entering. Only when he was alone he allowed more silent tears to drip down his face as his thoughts swirled out of his control.

He thought it was going to be easy once he overcame the initial pain of getting clean. He anticipated the cravings he would feel but was confident in his ability to overcome them. But now… he was troubled at the thought of giving in again.

He had failed Terri and Kim, Tony and Michelle, even Chase and Chappelle. He would never forgive himself for his failures and they would always haunt him and plague him with guilt. But he could still function with the burden, with or without the drug. But now it hit him, like a punch to the gut, he had failed himself. How could he ever recover from this?

He shook as he tried to control himself but the salty tears continued to roll down his hands which held his face. The revelation was enough, it chilled him to the bone, but the thought of failing again, the same way, it was too much to cope with.

He was scared. Terrified. What happens now, he wondered? How do I ever climb out of this hole without falling back down in it? How do I convince people I'm past this when I'm not even sure myself. Footsteps could be herd and the shaking stopped as he used the sleeve of his black jumper to wipe the evidence of his breakdown away. Somebody tried to open the door but he moved back so it stayed shut. He herd Jane call him, asking him if she could come in. Jack noticed how she hadn't asked him if he was alright and he was silently grateful for that.

"Just a sec," he called out calmly although his voice was still coarse.

Once satisfied he moved away and opened the door before sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at her expecting. His hands trembled as he watched her close the door behind her to give them some privacy, he felt the urge to fix again and pushed it away, glad he could do so as easily as he had, but annoyed to feel the sadness in his heart as he knew he could never run away to the drug again. He was torn inside and it was playing games with his mind, his sanity, he knew he couldn't take any more. He had mentally been pushed to his limit, any more and he would lose it.

"Hey," she said gently as she pulled the plastic chair from under the small desk and sat in front of him. She felt compassion as she watched Jack, his head hung low with his hands held tightly together in his lap as he fought the tremble in them.

Finally he looked up feeling like a child being scolded by his mother. "I guess you are here because of my meeting with Hart." He spoke softly but couldn't help but spit out the doctors name.

"Yes, well, not for him. He said he pushed you too much and you left. He couldn't give me any details of course, but I gave him a good telling too for pushing you at all. You were supposed to be discussing how you should go about the therapy, he shouldn't have launched right into it like that. I guess he expected it to be as easy as you did and so you clashed."

Jack had to smile. He realised the anger he had been feeling earlier was melting away along with the self loathing he had felt earlier as he had thought about Kim. He knew it was Jane that put him at ease and was thankful to have been appointed with her as his nurse, she had been like a lifeline since he arrived.

"What do you get out of doing this? I mean… It can't be the most appealing job, working with…" His voice trailed off, he didn't want to think of what he would have said, and he knew his self pitying wouldn't be put up with by her.

"With?" She said, a smirk on her face, waiting for him to continue.

Thoughts swam through Jack's mind as he though of how to put it. Nothing to harsh or she would know the extend of his damaged pride and self disgust, but he had to let her know how he felt about the level he had gotten to at the same time. He wouldn't want to give her any misconceptions about his self beliefs.

"Failures," he whispered, bringing his head up to meet her eyes once more, he felt he owed her that.

He watched as she leant back in the chair and tapped her thighs with the palms of her hands as she considered her response.

"I think that's a very fair way to put it Jack, although I don't believe it entirely. Each persons path to substance abusing is differently. Some, like yourself, think they have failed because they live a life of importance, a life of consequence." She stopped for a second when she herd him sigh but the look on his face told her he was listening even if he tried to appear as though he wasn't.

"Some people don't try in the first place. They just want a nice ride through life until eventually they get so low they realise there is no life left and they end up here. For others its simply a matter of circumstances. Bad home, rough upbringing etc, there are many reasons for why people turn to drugs. But that's what you need to understand, it happens for different reasons."

"You're not answering my question," he said uninterestedly, but she carried on anyway, ignoring his efforts to change the subject.

"A cop might think of a drug addict on the street as scum, and sometimes they are. But then they may see a colleague who has had to deal with so much pain and the horrors of life through the job that they turn to the drug for escapism. I know from experience that the cop would have the utmost respect for the addict, for finding a way to try and deal with it without eating a bullet. The cop would respect, sympathise and learn from there friends mistake. Just like you will deal with yours, and in the future, you will find other ways to deal with your pain, safer less life threatening ways."

Jack scoffed. "Please, enlighten me on how I can deal with what's in my head without getting so high or drunk that I feel nothing." His words were harsher than he intended but they only illustrated his pain to her more clearly than before.

"Jack you don't know what life is going to deal you. Maybe you will meet somebody who will make the horrors of this world worthwhile to you, maybe family or friends can help if you let them in. The key to this is speaking up, letting people know you're hurting. The more you hide away the more likely you are to relapse Jack, and that's a brute fact."

She saw that she had gotten to him and felt bad for being so blunt but she realised it was the only way to get through to him. She moved the chair back to its place, Jack was still staring at the floor as though he was processing the thoughts.

"What if I can't talk about it?" His voice just a whisper, filled with pain and worry.

Jane didn't know what to say to this but she felt her heart give out at the look of fear and confusion on his face.

"You have to," she said before smiling sympathetically at him and sitting next to him on the bed, hopeful she could get through to him now he was slowly lowering the barriers that surrounded him.

"You will talk to people here Jack and it will be hard. Dr. Hart is a good man and he understands what you're suffering through, just give him a chance okay?"

He smiled at the effort she was making with him and suddenly felt incredibly selfish. She got up to leave but his voice stopped her.

"You never answered my question, about why you do this." There was a hint of humour in his voice and Jane couldn't help but interpret the question as a 'thank you' from him.

"I was lucky enough to live a happy peaceful life Jack, with no worries about the world. One day I decided I wanted to help others, the people who have to suffer to give me such a comfortable life. People who deserve a second chance and a right to live…" Her hand tapped him on the shoulder lightly, "people like you Jack."

She moved away and left the room. She felt a great deal of relief as she closed the door behind herself, as though she had accomplished something. She hoped so, this man, like others she had met, was hard to get through to but the most rewarding kind of patient. She moved on to her next patient with a smile on her face as she thought about Jack.

Jack moved back on the bed and laid down after she left, a slight smile playing on his own lips. How did she make him feel comfortable? How did her mere presence make the itch of the drug go away and his resolve to beat this stronger? How could a stranger make him feel better about his future? Most astoundingly, he thought, how did she make him stop hating himself?


	9. Chapter 9

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Honesty is a hard attribute to find,  
When we all want to seem like  
We've got it all figured out.  
Well let me be the first to say,

That I don't have a clue,  
I don't have all the answers,  
Ain't gonna pretend like I do.

Just trying,  
To find my way.  
Trying  
To find my way, the best that I know how…

The next few days passed by slowly for Jack. He stayed in his room all night following his conversation with Jane, mulling over her words. Had she meant everything she said? She had sounded sincere. He felt selfish when he thought about her, she had devoted her life to helping people like himself. People who too had devoted their life to saving people, but had failed in doing so.

Of course not everybody who chose drugs were trying to do the right thing. Others were lazy and wanted a nice easy ride through life, they did it simply because they had nothing better to do. He was sure he was better than those people, he hadn't had a choice when he started taking heroin.

Or had he… ? Sure it had been part of his cover, but more importantly, it was the only way to hide from the shadows which followed him in his mind. How could he work when he thought of nothing but the crimes committed by his hands? His own bare hands…

But heroin had been the lesser of two evils, he had decided. If he didn't shoot up, he couldn't hide from the demons. If he couldn't hide from the demons, he couldn't focus, couldn't work; couldn't save lives. He had had no choice, he once believed. But now he understood why he had really shot up. Yes there had been demons and he had wanted to save lives but he had always felt guilt and still managed. But once it got too much he gave in, he had acted cowardly and hid behind a needle. Weakness was what made him shoot up, and his inability to accept his short comings, his failures.

He mused the thoughts over in his head examining them from all angles. After a few hours he had been tired, his head was a mess but he felt better for it. He was now certain drugs were something he would never sink to again, no matter how low he got. He would never go back there, he didn't want to lose everything again.

The following morning Jane came by to see him, a serious expression on her face as she closed the door behind herself. It worried him slightly, had he dome something wrong? Maybe Dr. Hart was still mad at him for his outburst and was going to refuse to see him. Would he have to leave here if that was so? he didn't want to leave.

Jack and sat up on the made bed making room for Jane who sat on it crossed legged, something bundled in her hands.

"Jack, I shouldn't do this," she said, "but because I like you so much I decided to make an exception," she added which made him smile, even though he knew she was playing.

"What's up?"

"The centre received mail for you. But you know as well as I do that rule 17 strictly forbids any kind of outside contact to a patient, including mail. However, seen as you have been so glum I think this would do you some good. But... It would have to stay between me and you, I would be in serious trouble if this was discovered."

"Okay," he said seriously, showing her he appreciated the risk she was taking. He was excited at the thought of a letter, he wondered who it was from. He herd the voice in his mind asking him who would bother writing to him but he ignored it. He hadn't forgotten about his worries of Kim leaving him but he knew a letter would mean his fears weren't true. Otherwise he wouldn't know of there future together until he was out, and that was too long a time to spend in doubt.

"There's a catch though," she said, noticing how he seemed tense, as though he wasn't allowing himself to get excited. He was preparing himself for defeat she realised, feeling more sympathy for this patient who was slowly becoming a friend.

"Go on," he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Because of the nature of your visit here, I have to read the letter before you can see it. Its why there's no contact - for all I know it could be a escape plan for you. Hell it's a heavy letter how do I know there's nothing stashed in here for you? I know it sounds ridiculous and no I don't believe you would be happy if this were the case, but still - I have to do it. If this were to come out, and they realised I gave you material without checking it, I could be prosecuted."

Jack said nothing, he studied the large envelop in her hands silently. Jane wondered what he was thinking, she was intrigued by his mind and the way he thought. Jack thought about her words, he could understand why such precautions were to be taken, he didn't feel like she didn't trust him, and he himself was surprised by that. It was a small confidence booster, it made him feel even better about his ability to overcome the drug, he knew that the day he left the centre was the day a new life would begin.

"How long do I have left here?" He asked, thinking.

"Two to three weeks, depending on your evaluation."

He nodded thoughtfully, knowing he had to know what was in the letters, he couldn't wait it out. He had to know if Kim had accepted him. He realised he was too confident Kim had written, why should she? He looked at Jane who was watching him curiously, he trusted her, he realised. He didn't like the thought of anybody reading his mail, he was a very private man. But, he realised, if somebody did have to he knew Jane was the best person to do so. He trusted her. Trust, he realised, something he hadn't allowed himself since he built up his bond with the needle. Heroin had taught him to trust nothing except itself, but not anymore, he thought.

He smiled and nodded a yes at her, glancing at the clock when she said she'd be back within the hour. He rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head as he thought about trust. He was glad he could do so again, it was another step, he thought, towards a free life.


	10. Chapter 10

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Confidence is a word I have to have,

Truth is I'm insecure inside,

And that's no lie…

When the world conspires to hold me back in line,

Feels like nothings going right,

Although I try,

So hard…

The hour passed slowly as Jack mused over his thoughts and tried in vain to prepare himself for disappointment when he realised that it was not Kim who had written. He tried to make himself expect nothing but he couldn't help but hope it was Kim. For the past year or so, maybe even longer than he had been using, he had tried to live by one rule. Expect nothing, so you are never disappointed. It was hard to break away from it now, especially when he knew how crushed he would feel if his daughter hadn't chosen to contact him.

The hour turned into two and he became anxious and started pacing the room wondering where Jane was. He couldn't go look for her as it would arouse suspicion, especially since he refused to leave his room unless it was necessary. He wondered if she had lied to him to get his hopes us and quickly dismissed the idea. That was the heroin speaking, he knew.

He thought about it, the drug, but he didn't crave it yet. He knew there were times when he would, but he wasn't concerned. He had been told the recovery process was indefinite, and he had wondered what that had meant as he knew he didn't want to take anymore.

Now he understood. The voice that had spoken to him earlier, tried to tell him Jane was lying when he knew for a fact she wouldn't do that to him, he trusted her. That was what the heroin would do to him, he realised, make him feel down, hurt him… Do anything to try and make his thoughts turn to the drug. If they could depress him then it could show him what he was missing, what could take the sadness away. He clenched his fists as he realised that the drug would always be back to taunt him and try make him take the pain away that way. But he wouldn't, he thought stubbornly, he would never submit or be dominated by them again.

He looked at the small clock sat on his dresser and cursed, three hours had passed! He slammed the back of his hand against the screen and watched as it flew through the air before skidding along the floor and finally coming to a halt as it hit the wall. He walked over and picked it back up, tossing the instrument between his hands.

He would need to do something, he realised, to let out his anger once he was home. Whether he was at CTU or not he needed to do something to vent his frustration. He ran daily anyway, so that wouldn't be enough. He thought about maybe making his weekly trip to the pool a daily event, he liked to swim. He could unwind physically but swimming laps and the water would make him relax too, it would help him clear his head.

He placed the clock back in its place as he smiled, he was actually looking forward to the new routine he was planning out. He needed to get back into shape too, so this would help. He had already planned setting the gym back up in the spare room. He still had the equipment he needed, he just hadn't bothered using it. He had preferred to go to the local gym after work, but when his drug habit got stronger he stopped going to public places, and he hadn't thought to fix his own gym up. He was pleased with himself for already having two plans of action for his return to normality, even if his career was still up in the air and our of his hands.

He turned to face the door when he herd it begin to open, a curious look on his face. He couldn't help but wonder what took her too long. He tried not to show his disappointment when he realised it was Joey and not Jane who had entered his room.

Joey greeted him before making some light conversation and checking he was okay. Jack was always surprised by how at ease the man made him feel. He and Jane had helped him during his worst night here, and he was embarrassed at the memory. He wasn't, however, embarrassed now, when he spoke to Joey. Somehow the man, like Jane, had a relaxed attitude which made him feel okay about himself, like his situation had been something which happens to everybody. He was thankful for that, he didn't want his time here to be any more difficult than it had to be.

"Some of the guys are in the recreation room. There's a game on in a little while, the Dodgers I think. They asked me to see if anybody wanted to join them."

There were 15 people in the centre being treated for substance abuse at this time. He had been there over a week and hadn't seen the recreation room, never mind the other patients. Making friends wasn't something he wanted to do, for each person he started to get to know would be a reminder of his time here, and the monster which had put him here, his conscience.

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't feel much like socialising."

"You sure? You're quite the recluse out of the group. There's a few quiet people like you here Jack, but you're the only one who eats alone too."

Jack smiled. "I know. Its just my way. I'm sorry."

"Hey there's nothing to be sorry about pal, I just wanted you to know there's people here if you want to see them. If you get bored or… whatever. Anyway I'll leave you to yourself," he said, flashing his cheeky grin as he left. Jack realised he liked Joey, he could make him smile and lighten the mood.

He looked at the clock when he was alone again, wishing he had asked Joey where Jane was, but knowing he did the best thing. He had to act normal or she would get into trouble, and he would never want her to be given grief for trying to help him.


	11. Chapter 11

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I guess you're the only one  
that nobody changes  
guess you're the only one  
left standing when everything else goes down  
you're still the only one  
who will never change faces  
I guess you're the only one  
left standing when everything else goes down

When his room door was opened a second time it took Jack all of his will power to stay seated and not run to it in a mad dash. He knew it was Jane, she would tap the door twice before she entered, it was her trademark. Finally, she was here. He was tired, it was getting late and his body still wasn't used to going through a whole day without something to help; making him sleepy after a while.

Still, he sat upright and quickly rubbed his eyes. He tried to tell himself he didn't care if she had the damn letters or not, but he did. He'd spent the whole afternoon analyzing what it would mean if Kim had written him, and what it would mean if she hadn't. He was still fighting the urge to get his hopes up, he was overly cautious of having them slammed back down again.

Jane pulled the chair out from his desk and sat on it backwards so she was facing him. She looked exhausted, he thought, feeling guilty for being so angry that she was late.

"I am so sorry Jack," she said sounding exasperated, "I had a major problem with a patient."

He gave her a quizzical look curious but not as interested as he was with the opened envelope in her hand.

"Mr. Beasley flipped out, it took us an hour to get him under control, another to fix the damage he'd done to himself. Then we had to submit a report immediately. I really am sorry it just got out of control."

"Its okay," he said softly, all his anger had gone. She did have more important things to do than help him, he thought, and he really was okay. Or at least he would be, once he found out what was in the damn letter.

"Well its no excuse I shouldn't have forgotten about you." She spoke sincerely, although he was trying to downplay the wait she could see the anticipation he was trying to hide. He hadn't realised he was sweating heavily and breathing loudly; he couldn't wait any longer, she knew.

She handed the brown package to him and tapped him gently on the knee, "you want me to stay with you while you read?"

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head, telling her he would be fine. He was silently glad she hadn't given anything away about its contents. She nodded before telling him where he could find her if he wanted to talk afterwards, so thoughtful, he thought as she left.

He followed her to the door and yawned as he turned the poor excuse of a lock. For a second he wondered if he should wait until morning when he would be more alert to read. He laughed to himself as the thought occurred, he knew it was an empty threat, he had no intentions of leaving the mail undisturbed even longer than he already had.

He sat propped up against the headboard with the three white fluffy pillows as he ran his fingers along the edge of the crisp paper. He was savouring the moment but he felt a pang of fear when he linked his waiting now to how he used to wait with the needle, just a second or two before pure bliss… He shook his head and wiled the thoughts away, surely he should stop making the connections with his heroin use as his desire for it ebbed away?

He was confused and knew he needed to talk to a doctor or Jane, but not right now, he thought, there were more pressing matters needing his attention. As he lifted the envelope us and tipped it upside down as to empty its contents, he couldn't help but feel as though he was holding his life in his hands; or at least the chance of him ever having one again.

Where you all gone? Anyone reading this here!

I'm not very confident about this so please give me your thoughts!


	12. Chapter 12

Jack shook the upturned envelope for a few slow seconds as its contents drifted through the air onto the crisp white bed sheets. He flipped it back upright and cautiously peered inside it, making sure it was empty. He purposely averted his eyes from whatever lay on the bed as he did so, postponing the inevitable, he knew, out of fear.

He folded the envelope neatly and tossed it aside. No more distractions were available. His hands were shaking as he chewed on a fingernail before he gave a nervous laugh. This was ridiculous, how could something so small have such a significant impact on his frame of mind and future? He told himself that it didn't matter what was there, whatever it was he would deal with it. Good or bad, he thought confidently, he would deal with it - he had to.

He slowed his breathing and took a hesitant look at what lay on the bed before him. 3 differently sized envelopes were scattered over one another, each of this plain, each of them opened. For a moment he smiled to himself as he saw the way they had been opened. Neatly, probably with a letter opener. Jane struck him as somebody who would open her mail with care, just in case something precious lay inside. The contrast with the way he would rip his open in a hurry, sometimes tearing the letter itself, made him laugh as the nerves filtered away.

Still he frowned with curiosity as he softly fingered the paper, did this mean three people have written to him? Other than Kim, who else would feel the need to contact him?

Deciding he had done enough wondering he grasped on of the items and pulled its contents out, ruffling the paper as he did so clumsily. He unfolded the paper and was greeted with a blue handwritten scrawl which he didn't recognise. He scanned to the bottom of the page where it read, "Michelle," as she had signed off.

He read the name again before dropping the paper and moving back against the headboard, he hadn't read any of her words other than her name. He felt the hair on his arms start to stand up as his thoughts plunged him back into that day. He easily recalled how he had given Michelle up, sacrificed her, then her husband too; the images of Tony's desperation filtered his senses and he recalled the parallel to his own nightmare.

He felt the guilt of Tony's future, but he also felt the bitterness take hold of him. Michelle had survived, why hadn't Terri? Why couldn't he be punished, like Tony, but his family survive and live on? He felt bad for his hand in Tony's arrest, but he was jealous too, Tony hadn't lost everything, as he had.

Jack closed his eyes as his emotions took over him until he tried to take back control of himself, he was getting worked up and quickly going into a panic. It took a moment to straighten himself out as he realised that he shouldn't feel sorry for himself. Despite Michelle's safety, he had still put her at risk, he had still destroyed there futures. He wouldn't let himself off because of his similar past; he would still judge himself. He deserved nothing more.

As he calmed himself down to a normal state he tried to look at this logically. Michelle was smart but also a respectable and strong woman. She wouldn't write to somebody to throw accusations of insults. No, he thought with a smile, she would do that to their face. So what did her letter say?

He remained composed as he read the body of the letter, it was like he was looking through a cloudy window or foggy air. At times he felt as though the words were meant for somebody else. He had read it through three times before he started to accept that her words were for him, and he felt regret when her words made a smile flicker across his face.

She had apologised to him twice throughout the letter, for not getting to see him before he left and for never knowing about the addiction at all. He was aghast at her confession to him, why should anybody apologise, or feel bad for him? He sensed guilt in her words as she told him she should have known about his problem, she was supposed to be his friend. He smiled as he read her review of their friendship, and he realised how right she was - she was a good friend and more importantly, somebody he could trust.

She concluded the letter with a promise to him, that she would be there for him no matter what and would stand by him when he returned home. He smiled gratefully as he dropped the letter, she was probably the only person at CTU he considered a friend before a colleague. Something, he also knew, which had helped widen the gap between himself and Tony.

The smile was shattered as he thought about him, he hadn't been mentioned once in the letter, was that good or bad, what did it mean? Was she purposely avoiding it? Was there friendship already strained, he thought? - as the good mood she had created inside of him slowly slipped away.

He knew he deserved the loss of there friendship, if he had been a real friend he wouldn't have willingly out her in danger; and he would have saved Tony. They might not have always seen eye to eye but they respected each other the way no other co-workers could ever understand. Tony too, would have every reason to blame him for what had happened.

He started to shake as he thought about the two, they had had everything he had lost with one an other, and he had destroyed it. How could he live with himself, knowing he had inflicted his own horror and pain onto them, his friends of all people?

PLEASE REVIEW!


	13. Chapter 13

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Things don't stop and the others announced they're moving on  
Salt & tears in the minds in the mouths of a bad decision  
Too late for another mistake it's bringing me down  
With all your faults it isn't your fault  
What's going on

The CTU letter head was visible through the paper before he'd even unfolded the contents of the second envelope. He grimaced as he straightened the sheets out, he wasn't ready for this. Whatever this may be, he just knew he wasn't going to like it. He hated the sinking feeling he got in his gut, it made him feel like a coward. But, objectively, he knew he had every right to wonder and worry about why the hell they had contacted him, when they knew he was in rehab.

He looked down the sheet and felt the stress leave him as he let out a loud laugh. Over the neatly typed letters a bright yellow post it note had been stuck to the paper, in the centre of the sheet. Scrawled upon it read the words, "Hurry up Jack your replacement is a nightmare." She hadn't even signed her name but Jack knew who it was from. He smiled as he carefully peeled it off, careful not to rip the paper beneath it. He grinned again as he thought about her sneakily sticking it on with nobody knowing, CTU wouldn't let her send a personal note to him in an official document. It made her message all the more welcoming, and as well as cheering him up it was another sign that there was a life outside these white walls waiting for him.

The letter was from Hammond, and was a routine case form, giving the status of an agent. Only this time the agent in question was himself. It declared that he was on medical leave until further notice and somebody else had taken up the job of Head of Field Ops indefinitely, until he returned. Underneath the official statistics and information he needed to be aware of Hammond had added his own information.

He informed Jack of complications which may arise when he returned. Apparently Division had initially decided to prosecute him along with Tony, but a threat from the President and assurances from Brad prevented this. To Jack it was no surprise that they were going to try charge him, but it still sting. Jack felt relief, not at knowing his future was safe, but at the backing from Palmer. Surely this meant he was going to show Almeida the same support? He would assume so, Palmer was not only aware of the relationship between the two but he had also constantly been apprised of Tony's actions throughout the day. Palmer would understand his circumstances and commend him for the difficult task he had had to perform. He would be free, Jack thought, and he deserved it.

After Brads reassurances he had placed a cryptic warning about Tony's replacement. It was subtle enough to go unnoticed if intercepted but Jack understood it completely. He spent a moment or two considering the possibility of a connection between the new director and the new Field Ops man whom Chloe seemed to dislike. He decided it was too early to be making such conclusions and he should concentrate on other things.

Brad himself would be leaving CTU shortly, and so he was giving him the necessary information now. He knew he would have to show Brad his appreciation when he returned; he hadn't expected any help from CTU, especially not Hammond of all people. He was grateful for the blessing in disguise and promised himself he would make sure Brad knew so.

Again he returned the letter to its envelope and placed it with the one from Michelle. He wanted to re-read the letter form her now, knowing that Tony would be okay, he felt comforted. He also felt overwhelmed, Michelle promised him she would be there for him as a friend. Brad made it clear there was a position at CTU waiting for him. Had he lost anything he had before the habit? Other than another piece of his soul which he knew would be taken forever, he wasn't sure. Of course, the finality of that would depend on the final letter, and his daughter.

Sorry this is short I thought the end was fitting. Please, give me your thoughts! I love nothing more than reviews! I don't care about the content I just like to know people are reading!


	14. Chapter 14

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There goes my pain  
There goes my chains  
Did you see them falling  
Because this feeling  
That has no meaning  
There goes the world  
Off of my shoulders  
There goes the world  
Off of my back  
There it goes

Jack smiled and gave a nod of his head to the man who had walked him to the door, pushing his spectacles back up before opening it and seeing his patient out. Jack closed the door behind himself once Dr. Heart had moved back into the room, another session complete.

Jack closed the door firmly before letting go of the silver handle and turning around to walk back to his room. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw Jane waiting for him.

"Hey," he smiled as they began to walk together.

"How did it go?" She left the question open so he could answer it any way he decided.

They had become even more close over the past week, and she was now aware of how she herself accommodated her behaviour to suit his habits. She wouldn't ask him a personal question directly as she knew he didn't like the pressure, instead she let him set the pace and complexity of a conversation.

Sometimes he would be quiet and barely answer her questions, but at other times, particularly after a session, he seemed to want to talk. She liked it when he did, not only did she like learning more about him, she felt valued when he wanted to talk to her. That was another reward of the job, she mused, being needed and feeling necessary. When it came to Jack she was needed, but so was he, she thought shyly, for he made her job worthwhile.

They made the short journey back to his room in no time at all and he asked her to stay, to talk if she could. Of course she could, it was what she did. They began with more 'open' conversation until Jane thought it safe to pursue anything else.

"So it went well?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "It went very well. I still don't understand how the process of telling a stranger my thoughts could help, but it does."

"Well I'm impressed Jack, after the first meeting I thought we'd have to transfer you! I'm glad Dr. Heart renewed himself and you were able to work together."

"I don't think it would matter who I saw," he said thoughtfully, "when I start talking its as though I can't stop. I don't know why. All this time I told myself I had to hold it all in, keep it to myself. Now its like I cant wait to get it all out and start over again."

"That what he's there for, its not healthy to hide it all away," she said softly.

"I know," he paused for a moment before chuckling to himself. "I remember you telling me that about a week ago and I was terrified. You said I would have to let it out, I didn't know if I could, I was sure I couldn't. I thought I was doomed. But then in my first session I couldn't stop, I just wanted to get it all out of my system, I didn't want to have to hold it inside any longer. I feel lighter."

Jane laughed with him, impressed that her words had stuck. "Well I'm glad you listened, and I'm glad it worked out for you, I myself wasn't sure you would talk."

"Really?" He asked, a serious expression on his face as he looked at her, "Did you really think I would be that stubborn?"

This time they started laughing together, before she gave him a playful slap on the back of the head. After a few moments of playful banter he quietened down again, she could see it coming, he was playing with his shirt sleeve again.

"Jane? Is it okay for me to be laughing and joking here?" His tone was suddenly sombre again, she knew he wasn't playing around any more.

The way his mood could change so quickly still impressed and worried her, it was as though his mind was constantly on alert, even when he was enjoying himself.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I mean… I came here to get off the drug. I am off the drug, and I know there's no chance of me getting back on it. But why is it that me and Dr. Heart aren't talking about this?"

"Well what are you guys talking about?"

"Stuff." He answered, evading the answer.

"Maybe stuff that could have helped make you take the drug in the first place?" She asked gently.

"Maybe."

"Well that's exactly why you're seeing him. Why go and be told something you already know, something you've already mastered? He isn't there just to tell you about heroin, he's there to talk to you about anything. Jack, you've only a few days left here anyway, one more session, two at the most before you leave. Of course you can still see Dr. Heart as a private patient, but that's not my point. You wouldn't be going home if this trip hadn't helped you. You wouldn't be laughing and joking if you weren't okay. But you are, don't you see that?"

He looked at her a moment before a small smile spread over his face. "I think I do. I just wanted to make sure other do too, that I really am back to normal."

"Trust me, Jack. Things are going to be fine when you get back out into the real world. But its perfectly okay to think about it, to worry-"

"I'm not worried about it!" He snapped, interrupting her.

"Okay, I just wanted to let you know. Its not uncommon," she trailed off as she saw his burrowed eyebrows relax, she was sure he was worried inside, but a man like Jack wouldn't admit it.

"Anyway, we're kicking you out in a few days so you had better start packing," she laughed, before tossing a pillow at him and leaving the room.

He watched as she left before using the pillow to lie down against as he thought about where he would be in a few days time. Would is all seem 'normal' to him, or would he feel like he was in a new place. He supposed realistically it would be a new place. No - that wasn't true - he would be a new person in an old place. He just hoped everybody would be ready for the changes.

(Yes I know I jumped ahead don't worry I've not had a breakdown or something!)

PLEASEEEEEE review! And thanks to everybody who has!


	15. Chapter 15

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In between this  
Am I gonna find a way  
To defeat this  
Living inside yesterday  
I'm alive but I think it's time to live  
Like I am

Jack lay on his side staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts meandered on through his mind. They lingered on his future, he still felt apprehensive about his return to the real world but at the same time embraced the idea of being back in normality. He had the support of Dr. Hart and a few close people, so there shouldn't be any real problem.

He anticipated the high odds that he would at some point be down again, low in himself; but he was confident in his abilities to seek help rather than burry the problem within himself. He had done that before and look where it got him. Besides, he doubted things could ever get so bad again, or that he himself could ever become so desperate and needy again - being weak wasn't part of his plan of the future.

He would return to CTU and continue to serve his country, save lies. His job was waiting for him, he had been told, and so he would gratefully take up the position once more. At times he had blamed the job for destroying him and he knew it was true to an extent. But since he had began to analyse his thoughts with Dr. Heart he had made a new discovery; CTU had also saved him.

When he had sought out the drug he had nothing. Nothing, that was, other than CTU and a desire to work. In his state of mind he had nothing else, he withdrew from his daughter in fear of her seeing through him, he pushed her and everybody away once more. But he continued to work, as though he could get redemption for his sins by trying to do good, make things right for his own failings.

He had explained his realisation to Hart during the days session and had been pleased with the doctors response. As they spoke the older man occasionally cut in to praise Jack not only on his ability to think and rationalise, but also to view the events objectively. He had criticised and blamed himself for everything for a long, long time and the guilt played a key role in his heroin addiction. When the doctor suggested looking at things from the view of an outsider he had laughed. How could an outsider understand, or feel the repercussions somebody directly could?

They couldn't, which had been Harts whole point. It took a while for him to accept the theory, then to try it out. The more they worked with it the more he was able to accept it, and then himself. He still felt guilt but it was no longer overwhelming. Hart had assured him that was his morality kicking in, and that it wasn't right to feel nothing in the same way it was wrong to feel responsible for ever direct and indirect casualty as a result of his actions, or actions he was unable to prevent.

Jack had let a smile creep across his face as he listened, thinking that maybe he had a chance. He was still hesitant but the more he thought about what Hart had said, the better he began to feel about himself. Of course he would always feel responsible for the death and destruction he had played a part in, but he now realised other had played roles in his failings too, it couldn't all be down to him.

He accepted that he wasn't directly responsible for the Chandler Plaza Hotel incident. Yes, he left Saunders behind, but he wasn't aware of that, and he never ordered the man there. It wasn't his fault the man was bitter at America and wanted to wreak havoc. Then there was Alvers and Amadors involvement too, along with the other men involved in the threat of the Cordial Virus.

Yes, he should have done more to get the information faster and maybe he could have prevented the outbreak. But he couldn't control it all, he couldn't prevent Gael from being found out or Tony's gun shot wound which had slowed there plans down. Those things happened and were beyond his control. Life, Hart had told him, was often beyond his control.

The words had sounded alien to him at first, but now, as he slowly drifted to sleep, he liked the sound of them. He liked the sound of them a lot, he thought, as another sleepy smile drifted over his face.


	16. Chapter 16

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Seize the day, the one that you left behind  
It seems so strange that you don't move  
Frozen still in front of your own lights  
Win or lose, its time to choose

He slept late into the following morning and frowned before the long yawn overtook his features as he stretched his arms out. He glanced down at his bare arms and smiled as he saw the faded marks there. They were faded enough to go unnoticed unless you purposely looked for them, but at the same time served as a reminder to him, and a warning if things every got too tough again.

He rubbed at them absentmindedly as he crossed the room and pulled out some cloths for the day, before heading into the shower to wake himself up. As he washed his vision repeatedly lingered on the long tattoo that possessed his forearm. He couldn't think of any solution to make its presence seem as necessary as he had the scars from injecting the drugs. He ran his hand up and down it gently as thought afraid of the touch.

Just what did it represent to him, he wondered. The power and control two malicious brothers had held over him, or the monstrous acts he had been made to perform after this had been inked into his skin?

He drew his hand back from the area and stared deeply into the face of the woman as though searching for answers. He found none, and instead decided that he did like the design; that could at least make its presence less damaging. He had another session with Hart planned, possibly the last one, and he decided he would discuss the tattoo with him then. During the last few days he had felt as though he was treading water, waiting for his release. He had covered the necessary material with his doctor and had recovered from the heroin addiction. There was nothing more to do other than wait. Just two more days of waiting and then it would all change.

He felt his stomach tighten again as he dried himself off and dressed, and decided he would mention his anxiety about returning to the normal world with Hart too. Jane had squashed his fears last night but it had crept back. If he started out worried or nervous, surely his recovery was more likely to go wrong? He knew he needed to approach his future confidently, and decided that after a brief chat with Hart he would be able to do so.

After throwing his night cloths back under the pillow he made his bed and looked around the small room, his vision stopping at the alarm clock. It was almost noon, he had made a bad habit of oversleeping and napping in the afternoon - once he got his strength up this had to stop, for he would resume the long hours he was so accustomed to working at CTU before he left.

Kim would be pleased to know he now slept like the dead though, he thought with a smile. He checked his door was locked before pulling out the envelope from underneath the bed, hidden from view and anybody looking to find something. He pulled a letter out one at a time before coming to the third one, the letter which he knew had changed his attitude towards his future, the one which had cemented the fact that he had a chance at a future at all.

He sat on the bed and unravelled the paper, he could still smell her perfume on it, just like he had that night when he first read it. He read the words through slowly, smiling at how she still dotted her 'i's' with a circle rather than a dot.

The letter was short and sweet, a little description of his accomplishments, and a note about how proud she was that he was getting help. After signing her name and drawing a dozen kisses she had written another sentence at the bottom of the paper. That was the line which had rendered him powerless to his emotions as he had first read the letter. Relief had swamped his senses, joy welled up inside him and a large toothed grin had spread across his face. She cared, he had realised, surprised, partly experiencing disbelief, but it was true, it was written in black and white right before his eyes.

He had cried as he had read the letter through the first time, and he did again as he leant against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest. He felt the pride swell up inside of him again, that this smart and caring woman was his daughter, that he had played some role in bringing her to be the way she was. He managed to keep the tears away until he got to the last line again, the one which had made him laugh and cry when he had first read it.

He refolded the letter carefully and slipped the bundle back into place. He left his room and headed towards Harts office, he was early and Joe, who passed by him, noticed the spring in his step and the smile on his face. It looked as though he knew something nobody else did, and he was having a hard time controlling himself, the excitement was too much. Joe waved as he passed and started to smile too, Jack was a man who would only go through rehab once.

Jack tried to calm himself down as he saw Joe watching him, and then entered Harts office giving the doctor a firm handshake. He smiled as he sat down in the leather chair overlooking the centres grounds where green lawns and towering crisp trees stretched out. Hart began to talk to him but he could barely concentrate, all he could hear was his little baby's words spiralling through his thoughts.

"We'll be waiting for you."


	17. EPILOGUE

EPLIOGUE

The two bags were repacked and waiting by the open door. It was he first time he had left his room open and he smiled, it took him to the last day before he could do so. He had alternated between pacing the room and trying to nap, neither were fulfilling his will to make the clock tick faster.

Where as the previous day he had been worried, about going home, today he was eager to leave. Hart had made him feel better after the talked, and he knew if he every felt like an outsider when he was back home, he would give the man a call. Not 'could,' Hart had told him he had no choice in jest, but Jack understood the underlying meaning and felt welcomed by the doctor. Mostly though, he felt comfortable that everything would feel good.

It would be natural to feel out of place at first, like anybody would after being away for a while. Only his 'departure' from the world started a long time ago, it didn't matter. Things would fall back into place and the picture would begin to take shape as it once had.

Jane stopped by when she got finished with a new comer who had apparently been having a hard time. Jack had smiled knowingly as she held back the details, he could easily imagine what she had had to deal with - the very same issues he himself had put her through. She stayed with him a while and they chatted, she could see his anxiousness and willed time along for him too.

Before she left Jack began to fidget. He wanted to thank her for her help but was uncomfortable. He had grown very fond of the woman, but he knew it was like a school boys crush on a teacher. He hoped he wouldn't go read and decided to just spit it out. It wasn't like he was acting on his feelings, he thought, knowing his feelings were like the kind developed between hostage and kidnapper - a result of a situation.

"I know that there's no way of showing my appreciation for the help you've given me, all I can do is tell you so, and hope you realise the extent. You helped me here a lot Jane, not just with the physical aspect, but by giving me somebody to talk to I think you helped me a lot up here too," he said motioning to his head, a small smile on his face. He was so shy! "So all I can say is the most sincere thank you, for everything, I appreciate it a lot, a hell of a lot more than I can illustrate to you."

Jane smiled at Jack and thought she would well up. She was used to this response from patients before they left, but there were only a few she had met who she had bonded with as she had Jack. And, came an afterthought, there were only a few who expressed there gratitude as Jack had; she knew the thanks had come from his heart and he meant every word. She was touched and she smiled at him, nodding her head as she didn't know how to respond.

"Jack I, I don't know what to say!" She laughed to cover up her thoughts, "What an unexpected compliment, thank you, I'm more than happy that I was able to help you and I'm extremely happy to see you leaving here with a hopeful future."

She paused and they both seemed lost for words, Jack was smiling slightly, he liked the daze look which had crossed her features, like she really hadn't understood his appreciation of her until he voice it.

"Hopefully," she said smirking with a hint of humour in her voice, "we wont meet again under these conditions!"

She let out a chuckle and Jack laughed too, he liked her choice of words. 'Hopefully' you'll be right, he thought, as nothing could ever be definite in reference ot the heroin.

She stood up to leave and he walked her to the door. She noticed how he performed small but polite actions like this, they made her feel special even though she was certain he would do it for every female as an illustration of his manners.

Before she left she turned to give him a small kiss on the cheek. It lasted only seconds but it said more than words ever could. She smiled before leaving and he smiled too, before going back into the room to check the clock once more. He was almost home.

Only thirty minutes left… Thirty long, agonisingly slow minutes. As this was a military based centre individuals left when they were ready, there were no set groups of people forced together; and so today Jack was the only man to leave. This also meant there was no 'celebration,' before he went, which he was immensely grateful for. He just wanted to leave and go home to start again.

He glanced down at his tattoo and smiled. He and Hart had discussed the meaning behind it, and eventually they came to a conclusion. At first he disagreed and couldn't accept it, but Hart was a very persuasive man. From now on it would represent something very important to him, strength. Strength of what he had to do to earn it, the courage and bravery that he had used to endure his time in Mexico.

But also, Hart had said, it represents the millions of lives Jack saved through the prevention of the virus, through his infiltration of the Salazar's. Those lives, Hart had concluded, began to be saved when he had the Salazar tattoo inked into his arm. It should remind him of the many, many lives which would have been lost, if it were not for his strength.

Jack was a humble man and at first he didn't like the idea of thinking of 'strength' as a result of the tattoo. But now when he caught the shadow of it underneath his white long sleeved shirt, that's what came to mind. Not his role in the saving of lives - that didn't matter. What he saw in the tattoo were the deaths that were prevented. That, he thought, wasn't a bad thing to have inked into memory. He could live with that.

When the time came Joe and Jane strolled through the building with him, where he was given a bunch of papers to sign. He did so quickly, before placing the folder of notes and documents given to him into his backpack. He would read those later.

He decided he wanted to wait outside in the sun for his ride, and the two nurses were only two happy to accompany him. The pair had a ritual of seeing people off. Joe had a theory that if a person leaves rehab alone, there's more chance they come back. It was superstition but Jane went along with it anyway, knowing Jack was somebody they both hoped never returned.

The black government car pulled up and Jacks face broke out into a surprised grin when he saw the driver. Jane gave him a hug and Joe shook his hand before saying goodbye and moving back to give him some space as the driver climbed out of the car. The two men shook hands and it was a firm handshake. Jack didn't know what to say. He expected this man to hate him, but as soon as he saw the car pull to a stop he knew there was no anger there. He felt relief but also hope, it was as though he had overcome the hurdle before it blocked his path. Something less to worry about, another piece of guilt melted away.

He threw his bag into the trunk and smiled sheepishly before climbing into the car. It began to move away and Jack gave a brief wave at Jane, smiling as she waved back enthusiastically before she were no longer in view.

Silence enveloped the car, Jack didn't know what to say. He expected to feel embarrassed that this man had picked him up from rehab but he didn't. He felt comfortable with his addiction, his past - he had accepted it. Also, he reasoned, he had already known about the addiction, from the day of the virus.

"You okay Jack?" It was a harmless question they both felt comfortable with. There was no need to complicate things or review what had happened.

"Fine, you okay Tony?"

"Never been better."

They both sniggered a little before the silence returned, but it wasn't tense, it was comfortable. Each man sat with their own thoughts, words seeming unnecessary. There was too much to say, so why bother trying?

Jack looked out of the window and watched the cars speed on past them the other way. He smiled to himself, finally he would be able to walk away from the Salazar's, and never look back again.

END

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All the stars are out tonight it feels as though I might  
Make some sense out of this madness will it turn out right  
Who's to say where the wind will blow  
Time will tell us if we're out of answers when it stops  
Climb back down to the beginning  
Take it from the top  
Who's to say where the wind will blow

(Lifehouse.)


End file.
